Hi all, here is the first part of my two part xmas update. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the next should be right behind this one.

As always the same warnings apply, there is nothing here other than Arthur that is mine and the spelling, grammar and Austen's language are not easy for me so any mistakes and i do apologise.

Please Read and Review.

Silver And Grey

Chapter 8-Beyond Repair.

Anne goes to Bath and must contend with the overbearing presence of her father and her sister as well as the newest additions to their household, Mrs Clay and the arrival their cousin Mr William Elliot.

There were times many of them in fact when Anne felt exasperation towards her family. There were time, many of them when she had felt like she was the only one with any sense. This however was beyond even her.

"Big house" Arthur said. Anne had him by the hand as they exited the carriage. She knew he was desperate to go but the roads were fraught with carriages with drivers that were desperately on their way and would not always stop for a young boy and she despaired at the mud and the dust that seemed to cling to the city's very air.

Another part of it was vanity. Her sister would look for anything that she could gossip about when it came to Anne's attire and behaviour. Elizabeth had not gotten what she wanted which was to keep Kellynch running it as the first lady of the county with Anne's coffers to drain. Instead she had gotten the promise of financial help only if she significantly reduce her expenses. Looking at the house in Bath that her father had quipped together to pay for (and no doubt update to his own tastes and likings) despite claiming to be destitute she wondered if perhaps she was being too kind and she would have been better off turning her back on both of them, taking Kellynch for her own and throwing them out on the streets.

Or taking rent from them. The look on her father's face as he would learn he had to pay his daughter a sum of money to continue the charade he promoted as a rich and wealthy man was so deliciously mean that Anne felt her head swim with the desire to see it come to fruition.

She gritted her teeth at the expense (granted there would be servants as well—Elizabeth could not go to the small closet to relieve herself without having someone there with a fresh towel when she got back—Anne was sure the Queen herself did not require such fuss) and rang the doorbell Arthur held tight by the hand as her luggage was seen too.

A footman let them in and Anne allowed her coat and bonnet to be taken already feeling the headache throb behind her temples. She closed her eyes for a brief second as Arthur now quiet (perhaps because he knew who he was going to meet) stood behind her hoping a little from foot to foot. The carriage ride had been long and though he had slept and they had broken their journey for a walk in the noon sunshine he was still restless. Soon the adrenaline would reside and she knew that he would sleep deep and well tonight but Anne was not going to give her father or her sister a chance to comment on her parenting especially when their father had been absent to be kind during their childhood and neglectful and often hurtful to be unkind.

The room was decked out in white and gold and again Anne felt a flicker of irritation. She was not a mean housekeeper, she too enjoyed the finer things in life but she knew how to economise and it was clear that Elizabeth (for none other could ever make a room look this gaudy) did not. Not for the first time Anne pitted the poor man whom she ensnared to her side. Hopefully he would have deep pockets.

Also seated with Elizabeth who was laughing with their father who was wearing a new suit she noted, was Mrs Clay the widowed daughter of their steward. Anne noticed with eyes that missed nothing (an unfortunate habit her marriage had given her) that the woman was wearing a new dress, a new necklace of gold and diamonds and diamonds in her ears worth to the average person a years rent. She supposed the money she had lent her father to become settled had gone on those and there and then Anne resolved not to lend him a penny without ensuring she got something in return.

Elizabeth who had noticed her the second she had entered no doubt took that moment to great her. Anne curtsied as she did out of the social norms rather than sisterly love and again to Mrs Clay and her father. Arthur bowed smartly but her father whose eyes barely glanced over his only grandchild and heir said with the air of a man who had better things to do than to remember other's names…

"Ah—Anne and—"

"Arthur" Anne finished for him gritting her teeth. She turned "Arthur see to it that your books are unpacked please" and Arthur with the look of a boy who knew he had escaped a tedious afternoon nodded and with all the dignity of an eight year old made it out of the door before he started running. Anne hoped his boots scuffed the surfaced of the floor and took the price down a little on this house. Would serve Father and Elizabeth only too right.

She turned back as her father with the air of a man wanting to get himself back on a solid foundation and after a pause where Anne had a chilling sense he was trying to remember his children after his favourite daughter he asked about Mary and Charles. Anne's comments on how Mary was recovering was interrupted by a knock and Elizabeth jumped to her feet claiming that she knew it was Mr Elliot's knock and then Mrs Clay ever the agreeable companion (it seemed obvious to Anne she was here to feed Elizabeth's monstrous vanity) indicated he could not keep away. Anne half listened to her father gush over his generosity upon letting a grieving man back into their lives and was just wondering weather or not she could excuse herself with a sniffle or something when the door opened and in came William Elliot or to Anne, the man on the pier.

A part of her enjoyed the attention he seemed to show on her but she was bemused by it. A lifetime in Elizabeth's shadow had always made sure that any limelight that Anne got was rather strange. Granted Elizabeth never really let the attention stay on anyone other than herself for long but for Anne it was a pleasant interlude when it was on her. Well, there had been Frederick and he had never (at least not to her knowledge—and Elizabeth would have pointed it out if he had) looked at anyone other than her. And she had thrown away such devotion.

But she trained her mind to think about something else because thinking about Frederick was like a lash of pain to her already mangled heart.

Anne thought for a second more about it as Mr Elliot was shown out claiming he was late for a business meeting and then she too excused herself hoping for a hot bath and a change of clothes and the sinking feeling of her body when it came across fresh hot sheets. Frederick had told her that he would let her know if Louisa took a sudden turn for the worse and she believed him. She did not however expect to see him in Bath. He had been like her in the sense that he had never been one for fashionable society. She huddled under the sheets that night thinking about it despite her intention to stop.

The city was alive still with people traveling to and from various social events. There was laughter in the air, smoke from the torches and beacons that lit the way, the noise of carriages and horses and then the dull beat of the rain that seemed to drum down on the house that overlooked one of the nosiest squares in England. It was a comforting sound as soon the rain was the loudest sound of all and Anne took comfort in that. It reminded her of the country, of her house which the presence of her husband was gone, of her lands rich in prosperity and her servants minding the house in good and sober living. She wanted to be back there.

She fell asleep wondering if she could only stay a week or so in Bath rather than the full month she had considered. Father and Elizabeth would not mind if she left early and though she had spirit and she was not afraid of it Anne knew she would rather not deal with her father face to face when she turned down his request for more money.

Soon it was morning and a dismal one at that. Rain confined them to the house and Anne spent the morning in her room going over the account books as privately as she could muster.

She had not been wrong. It was not as dire as they had been but it was clear that her father had been throwing away money to ensure that his social standing was intact. And there was a clear and worrying sign being pointed out when Anne tallied the amount of money that was being spent on gifts or small favours that always seemed to lead back to Mrs Clay.

Anne watched her at dinner for the next two nights and then Sunday morning after Church she went back to her room pleading a headache as Arthur went to room to play with his toy soldiers, and locked the door thinking hard.

She sat in her chair by her desk for a long time thinking upon Mrs Clay and her position.

She credited the woman to not be her father's common mistress. The love between her and her departed husband seemed to be strong, she never mentioned him publicly but then again Anne never mentioned George if she could help it. She was clearly a creature of Elizabeth but there was a sense that Mrs Clay was using her sister to gain advancement just as much as Elizabeth was using Mrs Clay to continue her own vain advancement to be the only beautiful one in the room.

Mrs Clay was kind (most of the time) she was young and slightly naïve but she had a vanity that was almost difficult to be around. There was little difference in age between them, they had both been widowed and they had both been forced to come home after their marriages had been ended. The difference she supposed was Mrs Clay had, had a happy marriage, had a father that doted on her and was clearly prepared to live her life in the spotlight whereas all Anne wanted to do was the opposite.

Her father on the other hand was an altogether different creature. Anne could not remember genuine affection between him and her mother but she assumed due to the fondness that seemed to coat his voice whenever she was mentioned there but have been a connection between them. Even if there wasn't her father was still to some young, to some handsome and without a male heir. Arthur would inherit the estate but Arthur was young and should her father die tomorrow she suspected that William Elliot would appear with an offer to manage the estate and Elizabeth would jump at the chance. She doubted Elizabeth saw Arthur at all. She did not seem the type to notice anyone other than herself especially children.

She paced her room for a while looking out over the street and wondering. Somewhere down the line the thoughts in her head tangled together and while she was thinking of the union between her father and Mrs Clay (the way he looked at her led little to be hidden) she was in fact thinking what a union between herself and another man would be like. Soon her son would be going to school and Anne was not the type of woman to spend the rest of her days wearing black and pretending to mourn the great love of her life. She wanted another child, she wanted the little brother or sister for Arthur as much as she wanted a child for herself. And shameful though it might be she wanted another man in her bed, between her sheets, between her legs. She wanted to feel alive again.

She spent the whole day considering these facts and then when she came down to dinner that night she thought that despite his significant lack of interest, of love, of support, that she was better than her father, that she could give him her blessing for his union with Mrs Clay should it come to pass, if he could give her his blessing with a man of her choosing.

Carefully Anne did not think of Frederick. Of the man that she wanted above all others even for a single night. Of the only man she knew she would ever truly want. She did not wish to dwell upon his expression that night when he had told her that he was sorry beyond words that her marriage was not happy. Even if Frederick were not entangled with Louisa Musgrove, Anne felt like she had burnt her bridges, surely a second chance would be beyond what she deserved? And then there was the topic she did not want to consider. That George had been right and their lack of a second child had been her fault, that George had been right and she had brought the beatings upon herself. That George had been right when he had told her that no man would ever look upon her with desire in his eyes because she had been so utterly weak as to take his beatings.

The look she feared that she would see in Frederick's eyes when he found out about her first marriage was beyond any thought that she could stand.

But that night she thought of William Elliot and his smile and the way his eyes went to her before anyone else in the room she could not deny that she was flattered. Perhaps not in love, never in love, but flattered. Certainly not in the position to deny his interests.

Flattery.

Well, Anne thought turning over in bed so that she could blow the candle out plunging the room into darkness.

Good marriages had become great with less.

And there you go, there should be another chapter following this one, Enjoy.

Next Chapter-Frederick considers the entanglement he is in when his friend tells him that Louisa Musgrove's name is attached to his own within the village. Later he comes to a realisation of his own. (Next Chapter entirely Frederick's Point of View)